


If I Can Leave Off Burying The White

by WeBuiltThePyramids



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-11 01:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3310217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeBuiltThePyramids/pseuds/WeBuiltThePyramids
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place a decent while after 7.10. Rated for mentions of violence, emotional and physical distress, and language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I started planning this out a few weeks ago when I caught wind of all the evidence that suggested that Vega was going to die in 7.10. Because I wasn't and still am not cool with it. 
> 
> I'm aware that the last three eps may negate a lot of this, i.e. if Jane and Lisbon leave the FBI obviously they wouldn't be here, but I'm just going to take this forward from 7.10. It takes place a good while later, though, more than a month.

His back pressed against the wall, Wylie scooted down the hallway. The bug was in place, the computers were manipulated; all he had to do was, as Jane put it, "get the Hell out of there." The safe exit was only about ten yards away, but it seemed as if Wylie had miles to go before he was free. Usually it was Jane, Lisbon, Cho who did these sorts of things, especially when it was a situation like this, where they were not even permitted entrance to the building. Jane was in his ear, he had talked him through it, but Wylie was wild eyed, disbelieving that he had actually broken into a top secret hospital in the middle of nowhere, with a security system that people dreamed of designing.

Shadows appeared, signaling trouble just around the corner. The exit sign was glowing in front of him, but he wouldn't get there without being seen. Wylie ducked into a side hallway, taking advantage of the boxes stacked up along the side, slipping behind them so he was completely invisible to anyone in the main hallway. Though perhaps not to anyone inside the rooms on this side of the boxes. There were two of them, one was next to him, just on his left, and the other across from him. Both had solid doors, both had windows with horizontal blinds. The blinds across from him were shut tight, so no one would see him there.

The headset buzzed. _Wylie? Wylie, where are you? Is something the matter?_

Wylie leaned around the door on his left, peering into the gaps left by the blinds. He didn't see movement, but the lights were on, so...what is this hallway doing here? He suddenly thought. I studied the blueprints all night long. This hallway doesn't exist. Wylie knew that he should be prepared to leave as soon as the shadows passed, but the fact that the blue prints were not complete changed things. There might be more going on than they'd suspected, and he didn't know if they would be able to get back into the building. He had to investigate, he told himself as he peered into the room.

It appeared to be another hospital room – it was at least set up as such. There was an I.V. set up, a counter, a small couch, various equipment that he couldn't even begin to identify, and a bed with someone in it. Why were there more rooms in this tiny hallway? What was going on? Could it have something to do with the cover up?

 _Wylie._ It was a female now. _Wylie, it's Lisbon. Are you alright? Do you need assistance?_ Wylie heard the people who had spooked him into the side hallway pass by, their footsteps remaining even, giving no indication they were suspicious of anything. _I'm fine,_ he whispered into the headset. _I found rooms not on the blueprint. I'm investigating._

 _Be careful, Wylie,_ Lisbon said. _You've done your part. We can get trained agents..._

 _No, I got it._ Wylie glanced behind him and then reached out, slowly lifting one of the blinds with his thumb to get a better look at the room. There was a lot of equipment, and a thick metal bar running at waist level all around the room. There was a small window to the outside, which led to a courtyard - providing the blueprints were accurate in that respect. There were plants - Wylie didn't know what kind, but they weren't of any known medical use, and they weren't native to Texas - probably decoration. His eyes wandered to the bed. The figure was small, covered with a white blanket up to the chest. Wylie frowned, something about the situation confusing him, something seeming out of place even for a secret hallway in a secret facility.

Then he was running, getting the hell out of there as Jane had instructed, down the main hallway, out the door, around the back side of the building, into the back of the next truck out. He looked wildly around, spotting a waste disposal bin against one of the walls. He barely got the lid off before the nausea overwhelmed him.


	2. Chapter Two

"The truck is late," Cho noted.

"He was late getting out. The truck being late increases his chances of being on it." Lisbon looked over at the car. "Jane! Anything?"

"We lost the signal," Jane said said from the driver's seat. "But he made it on the truck."

"How do you know?"

"I heard him climb up into it just before we lost touch," Jane said. "They won't find him. It's an airtight plan, I told you."

"I'm still not entirely comfortable with sending him in there," Cho said. "He's been too bold lately. Taking too many risks."

"He was the best person for the job, boss," Lisbon said. "And we were with him the whole time."

Cho gave a short nod. "There's the truck. Places."

Lisbon shrugged off her jacket, revealing a custodial uniform. Cho put on a jacket that matched. "Jane, keep an eye on the monitors."

The agents crept around the secondary building to the docks, taking protective masks off the walls and slipping them on. No one could possibly recognize them as imposters. They stood at the ready as the truck carrying Wylie backed up to the dock.

"You ladies can take it from here?" the driver said, hopping out. "I'm late for my break. Promised I'd call the husband."

"Go ahead Mr. Davis," Lisbon said. "We've got it covered.

They meandered around the truck casually until the driver had disappeared, then, moving quickly, they opened up the back. Wylie, looking dazed, came tumbling out the back. Grabbing him by the arms, Lisbon and Cho dragged him into the janitorial closet, where his own uniform was waiting for him. Then, racing back out onto the docks, Cho and Lisbon unloaded the materials and placed the already filled out inventory sheet on top, complete with the initials of the workers that were sleeping peacefully in a side room.

"You ready to go, Wylie?" Lisbon asked, knocking on the door of the closet.

Wylie appeared, looking pale even for him, but fully clothed. "Let's go."

Pulling down their masks again, the three agents walked through the main part of the warehouse, nodding at other workers as they passed them. Upon passing the primary exits, they shed their janitorial clothing – leaving Lisbon in her jeans and bra, she hadn't thought this through fully – and darted outside, around the building, and then raced across the terrain back to the car, where Jane waited.

"Mission accomplished!" Lisbon said triumphantly.

"Wylie, my man!" Jane said, exiting the car and offering the younger man a high five. "You were great!"

Wylie gave a shaky smile. "Thanks."

"Cho?" Jane held his hand up in front of the senior agent.

Cho didn't even blink. "No. Alright, let's get out of here. Lisbon, you're driving."

"Yes boss." Lisbon looked sideways at Wylie. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said, too wild eyed to be fully convincing. "Just...my first totally top secret break in, the adrenaline is still kinda...pumping."

"You sure?" Lisbon said. "You look..."

"Look, I'm fine," Wylie said. "Just a little shaken. It's all good. He tried to open the back door of the car, and found it locked. "Uh, Jane?"

"Right, sorry." Jane fished the remote from his pocket and pressed the unlock button, then passed the keys off to Lisbon. "Let's go."

"Hey you you mind if I sit up front?" Wylie asked. "I'm feeling a bit queasy."

"Go for it," Cho said, leaving the passenger door open for the younger agent as he moved to go into the back seat.

Lisbon watched Wylie through her peripheral vision as they drove back to Austin. Although when Cho had asked he said it seemed to be a run of the mill hospital, seemingly specializing in severe dehydration and sunstroke in military patients based on the rooms he saw in the main ward, something had rattled Wylie. She supposed it could just be the fact that he had almost been caught on the way out – or maybe seeing sick patients being cared for and getting better upset him. Either way, there was something he wasn't telling them...but Lisbon was glad that Cho did'nt seem interested in pressing him for details at the present moment. Wylie knew what was relevant to their investigation, if something had upset him that pertained to it, they would know about it. If he was still struggling personally, them pressuring him to talk about it so soon after the experience could make things worse. Lisbon reached over and squeezed his hand reassuringly before focusing back on the road.


	3. Chapter Three

Like a dog with a stick, Wylie held a pen in his mouth as he watched the incoming data stream across his screen. So far, nothing seemed to be in code, but Wylie was beginning to believe it might be, as he had not yet been able to report on Lisbon's instructions to "see if anything pops." So far, the Feldman Warehouse and Treatment Center appeared to be a perfectly normal – though high security – facility.

But it was entirely possible that he was so rattled from the day's events that he wasn't concentrating hard enough.

Wylie had purposely not gone to the hospital with Jane and Lisbon. Cho's cell phone was cutting in and out and they hadn't been able to verify if he said she was in recovery or if she had been heading there when something else happened. Wylie was in the middle of wondering why they hadn't found out sooner that anything had happened, when Lisbon grabbed his arm and asked if he was coming with them. He said no – If she could handle visitors today, she could handle visitors later, and if Cho's call had been that something had gone too wrong, he didn't want to see her like that. He'd wanted to remember her as the smiley girl who laughed at his jokes and who had texted him from the car that morning that she had some great trash talk in store for his friends.

Maybe that was why he was so sure that the woman lying in the hospital bed in the FWTC was her, even though he knew it was impossible. He'd never seen her body – but his thoughts and dreams were consumed by it. Lisbon had assured him that she looked peaceful, as if she was sleeping, the blankets all tucked around her and her hair let down That was how the woman in the bed looked – of course his mind went there.

And yet he'd passed at least a dozen hospital rooms during his operation, and at least half of them had female patients, almost all of whom were dark haired. None of them had sent that chill down his spine. None of their presences seemed impossible.

A bad taste had crept into his mouth. Wylie spit out the pen – he'd bitten right into the ink tube. He dropped the pen onto the trash and stuck out his tongue, wanting to be rid of the taste. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and got up, heading for the bathroom.

Wylie entered, jumping at the sight of Cho washing his hands. Cho raised an eyebrow. "You forget this restroom's for the whole floor Agent Wylie."

"No, no sir," Wylie said, bending over the sink with cupped hands. Water filled them, and he drew it into his mouth, swishing and spitting. Cho raised an eyebrow at the swirly blue ink that was mixed with the water that ran down into the drain.

"Wylie," Cho said. "Is there anything we can do? You've been acting strange. If something upset you in there, there's counseling, or..."

"No," Wylie said. "I'm okay, I just...I was almost caught. It rattled me. It's nothing, I swear."

Cho gave a nod. "Alright." He walked toward the door. "Try not to poison yourself with the writing utensils."

As the work day neared its end, Wylie hesitantly tapped on the door to Cho's office.

"Come in, Wylie. You find anything on the feed?"

"No. Maybe Jane could check it out?"

"I'll put him on it tomorrow."

Wylie walked over to Cho's desk, hesitating. "You know, I was thinking about what you said earlier," he said. "I...I have some leave."

Cho didn't blink. "Okay."

"I don't know...maybe just a few days."

"Take all the time you need. If you're not one hundred percent it negatively impacts the team."

Wylie looked down at the floor.

"That's not an insult," Cho said. "You recognize you're not one hundred percent and you're taking care of yourself. It's admirable. Keep me posted on how you're doing."

Wylie gave a quick nod. "Sure, absolutely, thank you."

He walked quickly back down the hall to gather his stuff, running into Lisbon at the elevator. "You alright?" she asked him in that quiet, motherly way of hers.

"I will be," he said. "Just need to clear my mind, that's all."

"You don't hesitate to ask if you need anything from me. Kay?" She gave him that sweet, caring smile.

Wylie nodded. "I appreciate it, Agent Lisbon. I really do."

He said goodbye to her at the front doors and headed toward his car, finding himself walking faster the farther he got from the building. He couldn't get the image out of his head – but that wasn't why he'd asked Cho for time off.

He had to go back to the FWTC. He had to creep back down the unmapped hallway and look into that room adjacent to the boxes. He had to stare through the window at the woman in the bed and prove to himself that it was a stranger. Otherwise he would go crazy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am trying to update almost every day, but it will depend on my school and work schedule.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the slow updates over here - this same story is on Fanfiction.net, I just forget sometimes to update it over here. Thank you for your interest so far!

It was easy enough getting back into the building – the hard part was stowing away on the truck, but the team had been observing the matters of the staff for weeks and Wylie only had one close call as he closed himself in. When the truck reached the FWTC, he went the same way he'd entered the building from the previous day, slipping with ease down the same hallways until he found the secret one. Ducking behind the boxes when a woman left the room he was headed toward and went into the other one, the one with the drawn blinds, Wylie waited until the coast was clear and then crept up to the door of the room where he swore he'd seen her. He pushed it quietly open and slipped inside.

His legs were shaking as turned to regard the woman in the bed. Now that there was nothing but air between him and the woman in the bed, he knew it was her. The face was pale and the form of her body under the blanket seemed so much smaller than he remembered. But it was her. Somehow. Somehow it was her.

Wylie took a step forward, drawing the door shut behind him, then realized he was uncertain about what to do.

He stepped into the room. There was a filing cabinet next to the door. Quietly, the woman still unmoving on the bed, he opened the top door, drawing out the sole file inside. He flipped the file open and the information at the top drained the color from his face.

_Vega, Michelle_

_Transfer Austin 02.04.15._

_Severe GSW, abdomen_

_Primary surgeon: U. Westing_

Wylie's head shot up, staring over at the bed again. He was shaking, yes, he was pale, yes, but all the common sense in the world was telling him this was some sort of misdirect. He must be crazy. He should have gone to see her in the hospital room. Maybe then he could have accepted that she was gone and move on, not practically hallucinating her in a top secret medical facility.

But that was her. Wylie's brain was winning the battle over his logic. He knew what she looked like, and that woman in the bed was her.

_Make sure she's actually alive._

It seemed like such a bizarre thought, but...this was someone whose funeral Wylie had attended. He'd shoveled dirt onto her coffin. He had multiple colleagues that had seen her body in the hospital. He'd seen her blood on Cho's shirt.

And yet somehow, she was here – or her body was anyway – in this tiny, out of the way hospital room in this quiet little hallway that didn't appear on any maps, in this hospital that had been begging the question  _what is it you do here?_

He stepped closer, still hesitant, so many feelings swirling around inside of him, the most prominent being cautious uncertainty.  _There has to be more than this. She can't just be here, alive. I went to her funeral. Cho handed her relatives the flag. I heard the dirt thud against her coffin. Maybe someone stole her body? What sort of a sick bastard would do that?_

Then something he had not heard upon entering the room – a monitor set up behind the hospital bed, connected to the woman laying on it, was giving off slow, steady beeping sounds.

And she had a heartbeat.

And, as there was no respirator over her nose and mouth, she was breathing on her own.

_What sort of a game is this?_

Wylie was standing over the bed now, staring down at her. This was her. Somehow. His hands were shaking, something was still telling him not to believe it, but  _this was her._  And he could see her, slowly but surely, moving as she breathed.

His mouth was dry, and when he spoke it only came out in a whisper, the volume accurately representing his level of confidence in the question. " _Michelle?_ "

And then her eyes opened. Wylie nearly jumped backward, he hadn't really expected her to respond. And then she responded in a different way – as he backed up, startled, unsure, her eyes followed him. Her head tipped in his direction. Then her own mouth opened, just slightly, but her voice sounded more like her than his own had done him justice moments ago despite her clear disbelief. "Wylie?"

He lost it, staggering backward a step, tears running down his cheeks. His face contorted and he found it impossible to breathe through his nose. "M...M-M..."

_It was her._

When he finally managed to formulate a word it wasn't the one he'd been trying to say. " _How?_ "

"Wylie," she said, awkwardly shifting her weight so she was more upright. "Wylie, Wylie Wylie!" her voice was quiet but frantic. "Wylie. Calm down, they'll hear you!"

His eyes strayed toward the door and then shot back to the bed. " _What_?"

"Wylie, if they hear you they'll take you away!" She reached out her hand. "Come here, come here!"

He knew he was walking because the space between him and the bed was getting smaller. His hand came out in front of him, shaking, only stabilizing when her hand closed around his fingers, preventing the motion.

"Wylie, listen to me," she said.

"You're...you're..." Wylie sucked in a deep breath. "You're alive."

"Yes," she said. "But no one can know. You have to keep this quiet, Wylie. This place doesn't exist. Not to the world."

"What  _is_  this place?" Wylie asked, shaking his head slowly in disbelief. "And who are 'they' that will take me away?  _I don't understand what's happening here._ "

"Well I'm assuming that you weren't given a visitor pass," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"No, but..."

"They don't let people in here. It's top secret. If they find you in here they will make you leave and they will make for certain that you won't come back. Or tell anyone."

Wylie put his other hand over hers. It was shaking as much as the other one. He had so many questions. "But how did..."

"How doesn't matter, okay?" she said, adding her free hand to their pile. "Can it just not matter, Wylie?"

Wylie wanted to agree with her, but "Vega, I...I went to your funeral. I  _helped bury you._ "

"I know," she said.

"You know?"

"I mean, I assumed." She coughed. "Listen to me. There's..."

"Hey!  _You_!"

Both of them jumped, turning wild-eyed to face the two men standing in the now open door, guns drawn, pointed at Wylie. "Step  _away_ , sir," the taller one commanded.

"I..." Wylie's hands shot up above his head. " _What the Hell is going on here_?"


	5. Chapter Five

" _What is going on here?"_

"You don't ask the questions!" the shorter man snapped, his gun jerking to point from where Wylie had been standing to where he was now.

Vega tipped her head back. "Oh, trauma flashback," she mumbled.

"Agent, has he harmed you?"

"Are you all right? You look alarmed," the other one noted.

"Of course I'm alarmed, you've got guns trained on my friend!"

"How did he get in here?"

"Well  _I_  didn't let him in!" Vega said. "Look at him, does he look the least bit threatening to either of you?"

"He's not one of ours." The shorter one said, then addressed Wylie again. "Sir. STEP AWAY. FROM THE BED."

"Okay, okay!" Wylie said, darting to the other side of the room. If there were going to be bullets, they were not going to be in her direction.

"Can we put the guns away?" Vega said. "I don't know if you've heard, but those things can cause some pretty serious injuries."

Wylie and the two armed men turned slowly in unison to stare at her.

She shrugged. "You get locked up in this place for over a month and you develop a weird sense of humor."

"Michelle, are you saying that you know this guy?" The taller man said.

"You know  _these people_?" Wylie asked, sounding as surprised at the man's use of her first name as he seemed to be at her insistence that the strange man in her room wasn't causing any alarm.

"He's about as capable of hurting me as I am of hurting him," Vega said.

The men lowered their guns. "Agent, what is he doing here?"

"I don't know," Vega said. "But he's here now, can he stay? At least for a minute."

"You know that that's not..."

"Must I remind you of the history of this facility?"

Vega spoke with the assurance of someone who had the upper hand. Wylie was getting more and more confused by the moment.

"We'll be outside your door," said the taller man after exchanging a glance with his fellow guard. "If you need anything, just shout."

"What the Hell is going on?" Wylie asked when they were alone again.

"Wylie, I know this is a big shock. It was for me too." Vega shifted her weight. "Can you help me sit up?"

Wylie took her by the upper arms and helped her change positions, her legs now hanging off the side of the bed. "Thanks." She touched next to her. "Sit?"

"Okay." He wanted to smile –  _she's alive!_ – but he was too confused. "I have so many questions."

"I have one," she said, "how did you get here?"

"Cho has us investigating the goings on at this place," Wylie said. "Clearly it's a lot more complicated than we thought." He shook his head. "I...Vega, I can't just magically lose all curiosity."

"I'm here because of my father."

"Your father."

"Some of his friends in the military had a focus on trauma research," she said. "Some soldiers volunteered to be experimented on if they had an injury that couldn't be helped with traditional "modern medicine." Places like this have the most advanced medical information and experience known to man."

"So there's human research going on here?" Wylie cocked his head. "Isn't that not technically legal?"

"Everyone involved is military, past or present. We sign a good dozen forms that allow them to test theories on us, should we ever be involved in a catastrophic event. Many of their ideas don't pan out, and the patient dies, but they've gotten very good at slowing down the spread of infection, speeding up the creation of natural antibodies, things like that." Vega sighed. "They couldn't save my father. Liver cancer wasn't something anyone here was working on. But he knew about it. His first commanding officer was a founder. So naturally, I signed up. When word got out that I'd been shot in the line of duty and was en route to a hospital, a team met up there and took over my case. The hospital was informed that they needed to allow them to handle my case due to a matter of national security."

"Can't they get in a lot of trouble for making that up? I mean, I'd assume that..."

"They consider places like this relevant to national security," she said, "as these facilities can help keep us ahead of all the ways our enemies may try to kill us or infiltrate our borders, even, when people have injuries to the brain. I honestly don't even fully understand it."

"So they had to tell us that you were dead so they could work on you in secret."

She nodded. "I've been here since the afternoon I was shot."

"Morning," Wylie said before he could stop himself.

"Right," she said, shaking her head. "Morning. I've had six surgeries."

"Oh my God," Wylie said. " _Six_?"

"Yeah. The initial, emergency bit was done at the hospital where the ambulance took me, then I was brought here. They had to stop bleeding, fix my stomach, remove my pancreas..."

"You can live without a pancreas?" Wylie shook his head. "Sorry, not the most important thing here."

"I'll need insulin and digestive enzymes administered daily for the rest of my life," Vega said, "but yeah, I can. Then there was an issue with infection – they thought they'd flushed everything out of my bloodstream, but a couple days after I got here I guess I almost crashed again. I was on so much anesthetic I don't remember much about the first week, plus I had a minor head injury too, from hitting the floor."

"Excuse me?"

Wylie and Vega looked at the door, where a tall, black woman with glasses was standing. "Michelle, we need to have a little discussion regarding your  _friend_."

"Please don't do anything to him, Angela," Vega said immediately.

"We're not going to do anything to him," Angela said. "But now that he is here, we're going to need to register him."

"Ah, I, what?"

"Register you," Angela said to Wylie, slower this time, as if he was incapable of understanding. "You know about this place, so we're going to have to give you the basic information and put you in the registrar as someone who knows. Now...how much  _do_  you know?" She regarded Wylie suspiciously.

"He knows about my procedures and how I came to be here," Vega said. "I told him. And I don't mind reminding you if you're going to try and intimidate him with threats."

"We do not threaten here," Angela said. "We do feel, however, that it is fair to remind everyone involved that this facility is a matter of national security, and we do have the right and means to eliminate anyone who poses a threat to that security."

"I still don't understand how this is a matter of..."

"Wylie," Vega warned.

"So does this mean I'll get to come back and see her?" Wylie asked, taking the verbal cue to shut up that she'd thrown at him.

"In extreme situations – and this would certainly qualify as one – we do permit our patients visitors," Angela said. "When you can come depends on a variety of factors, most importantly, who else has a scheduled visit at that time. It is crucial to recovery of most victims of extreme trauma that they have someone who they trust and who cares about them by their sides to help them recover. Michelle – does..." she looked at the tablet in her hands "...Jason Wylie fit that description?"

"Yes." She nodded. "He does."

_How did she know my name?_

"Wylie," Angela said, "we know you're FBI. That means we will monitor you closely – and remember, our surveillance is good enough we were able to intercept Michelle Vega within eight minutes of her injury. I do not know how you managed to get into this place initially, and since you know things now I suppose I can't really care, but if we get any sense that you are putting the goals of this operation into the wrong hands...it will be promptly dealt with. Understood?"

Wylie's throat was dry, but he nodded quickly. What else could he say?

There were a few more questions, and a few more comments that sounded more like threats than Wylie was entirely comfortable with, and then Angela left. She turned in the doorway on her way out. "You may visit between six and eight o'clock pm any day you wish. However, you will have to leave now. You may return tomorrow."

Wylie's head was still spinning, but he nodded. "Understood." He turned to Vega. "Is it alright with you if I come tomorrow?"

"It will more than likely be the highlight of my day," she said with a laugh. "This place isn't exactly the entertainment capital of the world."

When Wylie had gone, two of her nurses came in to change the bedsheets, helping her hobble to the couch to lay down while they did so. Upon being returned to her bed, Vega lay on her back, her hands protectively resting over her stitches as they did naturally now, knowing that she was shaking but unable to do anything about it.

When she'd woken up here and they explained to her where she was, she'd known then that if she made it through the rest of whatever her recovery had in store, she'd be sent off to a new life in a new country and never be able to see the people in her old life again. That was the deal. She'd never see her tía or her work family. They would all continue to believe she was dead. And she would spend the rest of her life knowing what they'd been told and not being able to offer them any comfort or evidence to the contrary. That was the price she would pay for having a rest of her life to spend.

Not anymore. Not only had Wylie been there, and not only did Wylie know she was alive, Wylie was going to come back and visit her. She would still be surrounded by doctors and nurses and others who only viewed her as one of the patients, but now she wouldn't be alone.

Vega looked at the clock above the door. It would be just over thirty one hours before he would be back, and that thought sent an ache through her that was different than the kinds she had been feeling over the past few weeks. She supposed she should be surprised at how much she was craving Wylie's presence, but she wasn't. He was a piece of her old life come into her new one. He was someone familiar. He was the only familiar thing that had happened to her in the past thirty four days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm taking liberties with this fic medically, but I figure a top secret trauma research facility would have some pretty effective ways of helping people, and some books and shows I've seen have pulled some pretty questionable explanations for things out of their hats, so I figured I'd go for it too! (I mean, Vega is alive, that's the important part, right?)


End file.
